


Why must it be you?

by Monika_Blue



Category: Code Vein (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Io (Code Vein) - Freeform, Louis Amamiya, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, Queen/Knight Dynamic, Spoilers, the protagonist is a woman because everything I touch must be gay, there is some smut in here too btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-11-28 08:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20963165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monika_Blue/pseuds/Monika_Blue
Summary: Revenants are not permitted to keep their memories. Each death makes who you were slip further and further away; you awaken with a damaged heart on that fateful day. Later it breaks, as does your Code. You don’t know why, in fact, you don’t know anything.A coiling memory long lost tells you in whispered sobs. You loved her. You don’t know who.





	1. Asleep. Awake and sleep again.

Static.  
Stasis.  
Sleep.  
“Save them…”  
Drown.  
Deep.  
Dark.  
Dead.

A silver halo awash with a ghastly white light frames the faceless angel’s form. Blue. Blue? The angel reaches out, a hand made of ivory caressing your cheek with a tenderness undeserved; you can feel you fangs in the shape of a claw biting deep into her heart.

You’re killing her.

She smiles, ignoring how hungrily you pull at her blood, stepping closer until you can see her eyes. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. She brushes away tears, you were crying? “Save them, please.” She prays to you, begging you.

You’re still killing her.  
You’re killing her. She’s going to die. It’s your fault.

She begs you to kill her and you can’t.

It’s all your fault.

She’s gone.  
She’s gone.  
She’s gone.  
-

The world is a dream. Golden fences and idle creatures made of memory to sharpen your fangs on - your guide is soft, her voice fond as she guides your tired muscles through each moment. 

“Do I know you?” You voice rips open in your throat, a thirst you never noticed claiming every last one of your senses; your head hurts in a way you can’t articulate. Something squirms in your heart, it wants. Your guide smiles at you as your vision fades, her eyes are full of so much love and you don’t know why. You don’t know her. She is silver, and you go dark.  
-

That thirst is your first and only sensation, it claws at your throat and commands that you open your eyes. The sky hangs above in twilight purgatory, the sun either freshly setting or ready to rise, you do not know; you do not care. Not when your heart aches, your stomach churns and your mind fumbles to even think.

Silver. No, white. White hair and a gentle face replace the yawning blue, golden eyes that seem to look right through you seem dull and lifeless as she speaks, “Welcome back.” Her tone is flat, empty. Just like your chest, “Hello,” she adds, “How are you feeling?”

Hungry. Thirsty. That’s all. You push your body to sit, her hands are at your back to help you; you’d appreciate it if you could think straight. Then, you see the world. Torn by the jagged teeth of twisted black and gold; the crimson mist that lingers like a fog at the corner of your vision.

You don’t know where you are. You don’t know how you got here. You don’t know who you are… “Don’t worry. It’s okay,” Your companion speaks up, as if your minds are one, “I don’t remember either.” A moment passes, silent aside from the low rumble of the air around you both, then, she stands. You begin to stand too, pulled by an invisible thread. Onto your feet, you need to be somewhere.  
Do you? Someone is waiting. Are they? You shake your head, nothing makes sense; the hunger coils deeper. The girl in white points to the only exit, “Over there.” You hear it too, something calling.

You follow behind her. Your body feels weak, with the hunger that pulls you forward, “It’s dry, isn’t it.” The girl tries to make small talk, but you can’t speak; a haunting moment in the dark and gold remains with you; that if you speak, your throat will open and that thirst will consume you. “We can go slowly.” Her tone doesn’t change, yet you cannot help but feel the affection; it’s like she’s a part of you, but you know she isn’t. “I am here with you.” Her words comfort you, but you’re slowing down; the white tree fades into view, something deep inside sighs with relief, “Just a bit father. We’re all right.”

The girl reaches down to take one of the white roots in her hands, you know she’s speaking but you struggle to keep your attention on her, “There is a spring that will cure that thirst. One that weeps tears of blood.” She looks up to you, “That’s what they said, anyway.” Before you can think to ask who ‘they’ are, something in your chest heaves. Blue. White and blue. Your heart aches. You loved her! Who?

As you cry out, the girl is at your side, “It’s alright.” She grabs your arm, lifting it to her lips and she bites down. Fangs pierce your veins and something feels… Familiar. Like a ghost of a sensation that lingers in your flesh, “It’s alright.” She repeats, wiping your blood from her lips.

White threads curl from the ground to the sky, singing praise to the crimson rain that drips from your wrist. Whatever this white tree is, your blood revitalized it and your companion seems pleased, “So, it is you.” You swear you can almost hear her smiling. Then, you see the glint of red. Tiny red fruits of glass and blood bloom into being on the tree and your body lurches with the need. The girl in white nods, reaching up to grasp one to offer it forwards, “Here,” Her tone reverberates with reverence, “This is for you.”

As the liquid coats the back of your throat, that pain and fog in your mind recedes like the pulling of a tide; relief is short lives as exhaustion moves in to replace the agony. “Would you like to rest?” You companion sits herself down amonsgst the roots and offers her hand up to you. You don’t see the need to argue; she lets you curl your head into her lap, she almost seems glad for it, her hands find your hair and she strokes it idley, “Then rest. I will be here. I am with you.” You close your eyes, and you dream.

\--  
You dream of a stolen moment, when the cameras have gone dark.

Your Queen is trembling in your grasp, your hand dips low under the gown; her head rests against your throat as her knees tighten around your thighs and her hands grip at your back like you are the only solid thing in the room.  
Each movement draws a moan from her chest, a curl of your fingers and now it’s your name; she whispers ‘Faster’, and you obey. She begs you, ‘Please…’ and you cannot deny her. She is your Queen, you are ready to give her anything.

Her fangs puncture your neck, and you feel the moan she silences shudder across her form as you comply with her need. You let her ride down from her high, pressing a kiss that feels cold against her skin aflame with your love; there is a tug at your neck, her fangs punctured deep - and she leans back, chest heaving as she breathes hard but she's smiling. 

Soft, affectionate, so full of love that your heart feels like it’ll burst. Her hands slide from your back, a hand claims you chin as she tilts your face away; with a swipe of her tongue, she clears the blood at your neck before kissing the wounds. “Let me show you my gratitude.” Her whispered words curl like the smile you can feel her press into your neck.

Her other hand slides up your thigh and you melt into her touch, “My Knight…”


	2. What was Lost.

You remember the soft words of your guide as your breath comes in ragged spurts; you don’t remember if you’ve ever been a good fighter, your body seems to think you were - there are instincts engraved into your cells, an easy backstep and quick riposte. You had found a blade in this dark place, each cut feeds you but the thirst never abates; Ichor, your companion had told you, that’s what it was.

One of the Lost lunges at you with a twisted blade, similar to your own but coated in the same strange growths as the ones that pierces his skull. The attack bites into your hip as you fail to step away, the blade drawing in your own blood; a snarl leaves your throat as you stab forwards, your sword rips into the thigh of the Lost and you watch the flesh slough off into black and gold haze.  
Staggering, thrown off balance by your attack, the Lost tries to drop the blade across your chest; he had slowed down from your blow, it’s nothing to backhand the weapon from his grasp with your veil - Your claw plunges into his chest, haven’t you done this before, and you feel his heart break under your attack, _it didn’t hurt this time._

Your wound burns when you try to take a step, that’s no good. You reach your hand to your chest, pressing hard where your heart is and you feel that sudden release surge through your body. There is a moment of exhaustion, but it passes quickly, like it wasn’t yours. You’ve felt that before, it’s a sign that your unable to Regenerate. Disappointment and desperation fill your lungs, your friend - that girl in white, she’s counting on you. She’s always been counting on you. You claim the Shard of Loss the creature left behind, adding it to the others collected before moving on, carefully. You swallow and hope that good natured Revenant is okay; Oliver, you think his name was. You double check to make sure your mask is affixed tight- _you don’t want a repeat of last time, do you?_\- and push onwards.

Black hair. Crimson eyes. Something about your mysterious new companion strikes you as familiar. He is kind, at the least; something about his soft encouragement is again lingering at the back of your mind like an itch you can't scratch. For now, you both rest at a mistle; he stands guard as you reach deep into your self - pouring energy, haze, into the memories of others. Your guide had mentioned about these Blood Codes, how yours broke and was lost and you had the unique power to put any other Code in its place. “It is unwise to linger here.” He speaks, you nod as you pull away from your mind; he nods back in return. It’s nice to have someone watching your back.  
\--

You’re sitting in the waiting room of a cold white hospital; you look to your left to see your friend Louis, his mouth is drawn into a single hard line as he glares at the cotton taped to the back of his hand. There is another sat with you too, she’s shaking as you hold her shoulders, her silver hair pulled back and her eyes are focused on the ground. You had all just survived the first moments of the Great Collapse; the spires that had churned the earth beneath you and coiled into the sky had birthed terrors unlike anything anyone had seen; they consumed everything in their path. It is the end of the world.

“What’s going to happen to us now?” She asks you, her voice quiet and fragile; you rub her shoulders and shake your head. You have no idea, “Karen will know.” You turn your head to Louis, “Right?” You ask him, she looks to him too. Louis blinks himself from his mind to look at you both, “She had been researching some kind of creature that can cheat death, she wasn’t allowed to talk to me too much about it.” He sighs, “We’re going to be okay.” He stands, walks over and puts his arms around you both - you tighten your embrace and all three of you nod, “We’ll get through this, together.” He says. You believe him.  
\--

What was once Oliver screams at you as his hammer dents the pavement where you were once stood. You feel your stomach clench as his eyes, crimson and glowing from behind his broken mask, bore a hole through. He’s hungry, “He’s too far gone!” You hear your companion yell over the din of your battle. He’s right. So you exhale the last of your hesitation and begin the fight in earnest.

Thick black blood splatters the ground as you bring your sword across Oliver’s stomach in a heavy slash; a metallic wolf head misses biting into your shoulder as you roll underneath the swinging veil - you make a mental note to remember the Lost can still remember how to use them. You wonder if they remember if they can Regenerate. You watch the crimson blade strike true, “Focus!” He calls, and you nod. Oliver is gone, he was kind to you; you owe it to him to put this creature wearing his flesh down… But what if he could be saved?

A fist breaks against your cheek and your feet vanish from below you; you fall, staggering to regain your balance. A crimson wave gathers, your new companion rushes to your side and brings up his weapon to shield the two of you, “Steady yourself, and Regenerate if you must.” He flinches as the sound of tearing flesh breaks the moment of silence. Oliver is gone. The grotesque creature that replaced him snarls louder but that spark of potential humanity is gone.

Fueled by this lingering guilt you still can’t explain, you stand and you grip the hilt of your blade tighter. Running forwards you send your first blow into the creature’s chest, staggering it to one knee - you watch as your companion provides a follow-up, his blade turning that knee into shards of twisted bone. The creature falls into its front, squealing like a struck boar as you leap, bringing the tip of your blade down into the heart of what once was. It won’t stop him from coming back, and you know it’s your fault. His mask broke when he saved you from the same fate. What if it has been you? _It almost was, then and now._

What was once Oliver breaks apart into haze. You are still moving, as is your companion and the girl in white too. You clutch the single Blood Bead you found to your chest. Is this really what life is to be now? Fight the Lost, both within and without; feed and fight? You sigh, and pocket the Bead. Your companion holds out his hand to you, “I realized that I've not introduced myself yet.” His words curl with the ghost of a chuckle, you look up to him and take his hand.

“My name is Louis.” He says, and this is the first time you met.


	3. What sleeps within.

The home that Louis has made is a comfort you didn’t know you missed.

The forced balcony gives you a vision of the true state of the world, the teeth-like Thorns that burst from the ground and the thick red mist that obscures the horizon. You exhale a long breath from your nose, so this is what the end of the world looks like? You’re drawn to the skies, glowing orange and crimson in the light of the setting sun, what if you could just fly over the mist? Pain! You flinch from the light of the sun as it bores a hole in your mind.

_Your wings easily block the incoming strike from the enemy drone. Another piece of filth to grind under your heels. Your tail lashes out the moment its guard falters, piercing its chest; you draw in the sweet blood return the favour with misama-laden ichor. The drone screams under its mask. It thought it was safe. You would laugh if she found it funny, she doesn’t. This hurts her, you know it deep in your bones. But it must be done. The new Lost screeches as you pull your bladed tail from its chest, it turns to Haze instantly from the gaping hole you left. Eventually it will reconstitute at one of their stolen Mistles, eventually it will turn on its own. The pitiable state of the Queenless Drone. Unlike you._

The pain and tight grip in your chest alleviates and you’re left dazed. Io is beside you, a hand on your shoulder, “You felt it too?” Her voice doesn’t inflect like you’d expect but you still read the emotion as clear as day, she’s worried.  
Before you can respond, Louis approaches with a notepad and needle between his hands, “What you did with that Lost, Oliver.” He corrects himself quickly, “Oliver’s Vestige, was nothing short of a miracle. Would you let me take some of your blood to test a theory of mine?” He holds out the needle, his movements are careful you note, but you give him a nod.

Io watches with interest, you notice immediately when she stops herself from grabbing Louis’s arm when he begins to draw blood from your arm. She looks down at her hands, confused and you’re pretty confused too. Soon, Louis has a vial full of your deep crimson blood, “This should be more than enough, thank you.” He then motions his hand, vial included, towards the back rooms, “It has been a very long day, you should rest. I will summon you once I’ve confirmed or disproven my theory.” He offers you a small reassuring smile. You look to Io as she yawns and you smile. Sleep sounds nice, so you offer your hand out to Io and decide it might be a good idea for you both to get some rest.  
\--

Your Queen coils your hair around her fingers, smiling at the contact as she shuffles a little closer; you swallow as you catch sight of her gown slipping down her shoulder, “Are you sure about this? Karen said,” Her face flushes as she chuckles and avoids your gaze, “Feeding directly would be more intense, something about the warmth. I don’t,” Her voice, once wavering but now stronger lets her eyes meet yours, “I don’t want to hurt you.” You can feel her thumb brush against the back of your neck, you watch her throat as she swallows waiting for your reply.

You take her other hand, lifting it to your lips as you press a kiss against her knuckles; again her face flushes and you see her smile, “I am sure. It was my idea after all.” You say, plainly and you watch as her expression melts into one of affection, “The idea that you’d be willing to,” She pulls you close, pressing her forehead against your; you can see her fangs this close, “To let me feed from you…” She sighs and you can feel the tension in her shoulders release, “Why…? Please I must know.”

A thousand reasons bloom on your tongue but only one escapes, a vow that burns to be pressed against her lips, you want to kiss her… But you don’t, “Against your suffering, it is nothing. If it helps, I’ll do it.” You love her, but you don’t say that.

You sit on her bed, and wait as your Queen ties her hair back; you can see her fingers tremble, she’s nervous. You are too, this is the first time you’re letting her feed directly. You suggested it would be better, you’re ready but something feels… heavy in the air.

She shifts and breaks your from your mind, “I’m going to,” She shakes her head, unable to finish her statement and pushes against your thigh before straddling your hips, “Stop me if it’s too much. Promise me.” She leans forward, and you tilt your head so she can get closer. Her breath is warm against your skin and she’s still trembling; you can feel her hair tickle your exposed shoulder as she waits. All is still.

You bring your hand to the small of her back and rub a comforting circle into her muscles, “I… I can’t.” She whispers, her lips against your throat. She’s so close. So you lift your head to the crook of her neck and you press a kiss to her own soft flesh, she gasps, “It’s okay.” You murmur, aware of how your chest rumbles, “I trust you. Take what you need. It is given willingly.” You feel her heart speed up, it’s slower than a normal humans but you can still feel how it flutters her pulse under your lips and then she makes a command you never expected. 

_ “Bite me first.” _

You can’t deny her, so you do. You have no fangs, but you bite down on her exposed throat; she sucks in a hard breath and you swear you hear a noise begin to form but it’s your own voice that is drawn into a moan as her fangs finally puncture your neck. It hurts. A lot. But she’s pulling you closer as she drinks you in; at your moan, she lifts her head a little, not enough to free herself but the space gives her room to bite down again, drawing another moan from your throat.

Pleasure sinks low into your belly, pooling like liquid fire left to simmer, then it is gone as you feel her tug at your neck; the pain returns as she struggles a little to pull away. You lower your shoulder with a huff and you barely hear her whispered apologies. She sits back and your eyes linger on the small red mark on her neck, she captures your gaze as she moves her head to meet it, “A-Are you okay?” Her voice sounds strained, you’re sure yours will sound similar. Your blood is still on her lips, on her chin and you nod, “Y-Yeah. That was intense.” You let yourself chuckle, partially in disbelief of it all.

Your Queen smiles, you see a flash of crimson dabbled fangs, “I’ll clean us up, just,” She leans up on her knees and reaches for bandages and tissues that were prepared in advance, “Did it help?” You ask. She freezes.

“Did wha- Oh…” She sinks back down, and starts to tend to your wounds, “It did. I’m sorry, it must have sounded so weird for me to ask and,” She only stops when you reach a hand to her wrist, “Do you want me to do it again?” You watch her blush and she nods, silently.

“Please.” She adds after a heavy pause, her next words curl like a question, but you feel the command that hides behind them, “Right now..?”  
\--

You awaken with a start to see Io standing beside you, “Louis is ready.” She says, before leaving the room. There is a weight to your chest, you just can’t shake it off, but for now it doesn’t matter. You exit the room to see Louis with an excited gleam in his eyes as he looks over the notepad you saw him handle before.

Apparently, according to his very rudimentary testing, your blood has the power to hold more than one Blood Code; another boundary you’ve seemingly broken without an effort. You remember once again the words of the Guide, how your code broke, _ shattered like your heart _, at some point. You are now a Void-Type. To test his theory, that you can accept any Blood Code, Louis offers his, his neck laid bare for you.

It feels wrong, to sink your fangs into him. To draw in his blood. It shouldn’t be him, even if something in the back of your mind tells you this feels good. It does, but it shouldn’t be him.  
Prometheus whispers to you from your blood, you can feel the connection to Louis the moment you focus on the Gifts contained within - some pieces are missing, too distant to touch but you don’t fully know what that means. 

For a moment, a deep and odd dread fills you. Your Code has shattered…Yet you still carried some. Prometheus and Berserker, gained from Louis and Oliver respectively are two you have clear memories of - Warrior, Ranger and Caster are so far away that you can’t picture their faces when you call to their Code. Who were they? If it was through drinking in memories or blood that you obtained the other two then… 

Another Code pulls your attention. It’s empty, nothing but a name and a fracturing pain the moment you touch it. 

_ Ishtar. _

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I'm big gay for Cruz. Also I have no self control.


End file.
